Upon Their Bones: The Rise and Fall of Gellert Grindelwald
by Soleidus
Summary: (This is my first fanfiction so please review and comment, hope you enjoy!) Before there was Voldemort, there was the great Gellert Grindelwald. The story follows his rise to power, his effect on the lives of others, and finally his downfall at the hands of Albus Dumbledore in the Greatest Duel of All Time of 1945.
1. Prologue: The Finite Enchantment

A tea kettle just began to whistle and old Ned Salister awoke. He was napping in his armchair, wrapped in a warm, quilted blanket his grandmother once made for him long, long ago. He got up slowly and walked to the kettle, gently removing it from the stove and pouring the boiling water into a cup. There was a window right above the stove which Salister looked out of every time he approached the stove. It was almost like a ritual for him. Not once would he allow himself to ignore what the window had to show him.

This time, it presented a clear blue sky, with warm rays of August sunlight bearing down upon his small yard clad in young apple trees reaching towards the source of warmth. Salister smiled a kind, wrinkled smile and sat down at his small kitchen table, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He knew that the beauty outside his house was an illusion, oh he knew.

He knew that far away, in Europe, an atrocious war had raged, mowing lives like a sickle cuts wheat. He knew that in Germany, millions of innocent lives were thrown into pits and chambers filled with poisonous gas. His eyes closed shut and he tried to block it out, but he knew, he knew. A gentle breeze snuck through the small crack in his window and Salister shuddered.

"Hello Ned."

Sallister's coffee flew to the floor. As fast as he could, Salister rose up out of his chair and turned around, eyebrows raised in panicked furor, and lips violently quivering.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" his mouth spoke for him. He knew these questions were pointless and needed no answer.

"I've looked too long for you Ned. You have a book, you see, a book that I have been looking for for a very long time."

The man who spoke was tall and very handsome, though clearly in his late 40s, as it seemed to Ned. He was clothed in a handsome black long coat, a black velvet vest and a black necktie. His collar was raised, giving him a very ominous but powerful air. He had on odd shoes: black velvet with ornate designs, but silver plated at their nose. The tall man stood with his arms behind his back, calmly looking at Ned with bright orange eyes, his long golden hair, with streaks of grey, calmly resting on his shoulders. His voice was deceivingly soothing.

"I.. I don't know what you want from me. Please, please I am an old man, I do not want any trouble, please leave my house."

"My dear Ned, do have a seat and try to relax your nerves. I do not wish any harm upon you. I simply wish to find that book. You know which book."

Ned did know which book. An old rusty tome he found locked deep inside a small, odd-looking chest in the cellar when he was a small boy. He brought the book to his mother and her expression upon seeing the book was forever embedded into his memory. She delivered a sharp blow to his curious little face and snatched the book away. As the tears flooded his eyes, his mother shook him violently forbidding him from ever coming near the book again. He kept it there, in the cellar. When his mother died, he ventured towards it once more. Inside he found the most unusual markings, drawings, letters and descriptions. All of them were of a language he didn't understand. But the book gave him strange abilities. He could sense things he normally never noticed, like the sun rising over the horizon, the water just before it began to boil, the first drop of rain to hit the Earth. It was magic, he knew it from the moment he laid eyes upon it. But he feared to ever come near it again.

He had nightmares, terrible nightmares about dark magic and a dark wizard wielding a terrible weapon laying waste to his home, to the homes of his friends and family, and to the world in its entirety. It was a tall, evil but handsome and compelling wizard with flowing golden hair. This nightmare, that Salister had been running from his entire life, now stood before him.

Upon the realization, Salister's lips stopped quivering, and his heart-rate slowed. He stared in awe at what was before him. It was real. He knew all along it was real, that somewhere out there there was a dark and terrible man with an evil plot but he ran from it, shielded himself from it. He rain from the pain it caused him, from the pain the memories of his mother's manic reaction brought him. But he couldn't run anymore. Now there was nowhere left as he stared into the fiery orange eyes of Gellert Grindelwald.

"I.. I know who you are."

The man's lips slowly curled into a smile.

"I've seen you in my dreams! You are a dark, dark man."

"Yes Ned. I know you have. I have wandered your dreams and memories quite often. I've seen what troubles your sleep."

Grindelwald's voice soothed itself into Salister's mind. His muscles weakened, his senses dulled. The poor old man feebly grasped for something to hold onto as he felt his body giving way to uncontrollable weakness and fatigue. But Grindelwald did not cease his descent into the man's mind. His volcanic glare burned Salister's skull, blinding his vision. Salister slid slowly to the floor, shielding himself from the bright light visible only in his own eyes.

"Where is the book Salister? Where is it?"

The soothing voice now grew louder and angrier inside Ned's skull. The fire grew hotter and the light brighter. He felt as if his skull was split in two. There was no resisting this. How could he resist such pain? And that voice.. it ran across his burning skull like an insect, whispering and demanding.

"It's.. it's.." Salister could barely speak. He knew he was breathing his last gasps of air.

"Where? Where?! Where is the book Salister?"

The voice was now a loud growl. The fire spread to Ned's entire body. His lungs heaved desperately but each breath drew only steaming, ashy air. His stomach churned and his legs shook.

"Down.. below.. inside the.." Salister thought of the young apple trees outside his window and such an intense feeling of sadness overcame him that he momentarily forgot the pain. He didn't want them to perish. He wanted them to live and to bear fruit and to make the sunlight happy, letting it know that it didn't shine in vain. But now, all he saw were ashes. His tongue was not his own anymore, and he was master of his mind no longer.

"It is below the cellar, dug deep into the ground. The key to the chest is in my pocket." and then he drew his final breath and everything halted.

In a puff of light, the old man's body burst into flame. Slowly it burned in wide proud flames, giving a final farewell to the world that let him trod on it for 78 years, then withered into ashes.

Grindelwald watched on without moving a muscle. Then he walked over the to the pile of ash and reached into it, retrieving a small, rusty key. Turning, he made his way down to the cellar, key in hand. Reaching the very bottom, Grindelwald approached the center of the tight, damp area. Muttering under his breath, Grindelwald's eyes glowed for a moment then ceased. He took out his wand and pointed at the ground. Slowly parting the earth, a small chest rose from the ground and halted a few feet above the ground. Grindelwald inserted the key and turned three times. The lock clicked open and the lid flew back. His hands trembling, Grindelwald reached into the chest and withdrew a tattered old book.

"So many years.. so many. Can it be true? Have I finally found it?"

His heart was racing as he slowly opened and began to read the first words of the Finite Enchantment.


	2. Chapter 1: Mystery at the Ministry

Dole Brindelwood tumbled out of the fireplace at the Ministry of Magic as he usually did: late for work. Everywhere around him, Ministry officials were already busy carrying out daily tasks, suspects were being taken to their hearings, and the all familiar sound of bustling, shouting, and paper boys yelling the latest news all filled Brindelwood with dread.

He hated working at the Ministry. He hated all the bureaucracy that governed it and he most definitely hated his boss. Mildred Flimwick, the overseer of the Dangerous Magical Anomalies department, was a large, incredibly ugly, and rude woman who constantly wore the same black velvet dress with a large rose on the shoulder.

Her voice was very high pitched for a woman her size and she never treated anyone's contributions or opinions with respect. She was already waiting for Brindelwood at the top of her balcony, underneath the enormous clock which had malicious eyes lined with black mascara that kept a close watch on everyone working down below.

Brindelwood hurriedly entered the enormous hall and started towards his desk, desperately trying to keep his head as low as he could. But the clock had already saw him and the malicious eyes lit up in a flagrant red color.

"Brindelwood!" came a feverish shriek from high above.

Eyes tightly shut, Brindelwood froze in his tracks. _ Why, why does she have to shriek in such abominable manner?_

"Mrs. Flimwick.." he muttered. With a sharp bang, Flimwick Apparated near his desk and approached him with strong confident strides. Everyone near them halted their work and stared.

"Tell me, in your studies have you ever come upon the concept of time?" she asked, towering over him.

"Yes Mrs. Flimwick, the concept always was far fetched to me," Brindelwood said. A bunch of snickers ensued from around him but immediately halted as Madam Flimwick approached him within rather dangerous distance.

"You're humor is just as horrible as your daily outfit, Mr. Brindelwood. How long am I supposed to tolerate your debased dedication to your job? Would you prefer a transfer to the Muggle department?"

"No, please Mrs. Flimwick, believe me, this is truly the last time. You'll see! Just give me the chance tomorrow to show y-"

"Oh I think you've shown me quite enough Dole. Your new desk is already set in your new Department. I will not tolerate incompetence in my department and you seem to be its primary source."

With that, she turned sharply on her heels and stormed back towards her office, high above the large hall. Brindelwood despised the muggle world. He found it to be the most bland and stupid thing ever.

And now, with the muggle war raging full force and the atrocities he had heard of them committing, he despised it even deeper. Now he had to work in a place where the primary focus was to study the muggle world. What a horrid woman; she knew he despised it all and of course she hit him where it hurt most.

Grudgingly, Brindelwood gathered his belongings from his desk and slowly walked out of the hall. Slowly he walked towards the elevators where he stumbled upon the recent edition of the Daily Prophet, laying in a stack near an entrance to one . The headline read:

"Grindelwald Gains Power: Death Toll Rises In Europe."

Switzerland's Ministry Falls.

Picking it up, Brindelwood stepped into the elevator and began to read.

"The dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald and his followers have laid waste to Switzerland's Ministry of Magic, killing its Minister in the most horrid fashion. There was evidence that a very dark curse was used to commit the murder with some experts believing it to be a manifestation of the Fiendfyre Curse. The Minister was found in a pile of ash, burnt to a crisp with only his left hand intact, grasping a destroyed wand. This is the second Ministry Grindelwald has taken in the course of a month increasing his following and laying more waste to wherever they travel. It is unclear what Grindelwald's plan exactly is but there are rumors that his target are all the European Ministries, according to a reliable source. In their place, Grindelwald wishes to erect his own Ministry from which he will direct his operations to infiltrate the Muggle world and enslave them. These, of course, are only rumors which our reliable source has heard but..."

The elevator arrived at the Department of Muggle Studies and Brindelwood snapped out of his trance. With automatic strides and his thoughts completely focused on what he had just read, Brindelwood marched on through the darkened hall, past various doors of the most ridiculed department of all until he reached his designated office: The Investigation of Violence Against Muggles Suffered Through Magical Means. With a deep sigh he opened the door and entered.

It was an extremely tiny office crammed to the ceilings with towering stacks of paper. There were five desks in total and an old, crooked perch standing in the corner. On it sat a fat, old owl which was picking at its feathers until it noticed Brindelwood walking in. It let out a drawn-out screech which made Brindelwood's hair stand on end. Four withered old wizards slowly looked up from their papers to examine the new arrival.

One of them had a pointy, brown wizard hat on, with a patch on the side of it. He was the one who spoke up first.

"Ah.." he croaked. "You must be Dole?"

"That's the one," Dole answered dryly. He placed his papers on the open desk and sat down.

"You will find a large stack of the parchments detailing the most recent murders over here on your right," the old wizard mumbled. "Anything you find out of the ordinary please let me know. Otherwise just sort them by severity and give them to us depending on how terrible they are. Toley over there will handle misdemeanor, Milus will handle 3rd degree, Oliver will handle 2nd degree. And I, my name is Severahl by the way, will handle first degree." He listed this off while standing and pointing to all the other wizards in the room. He spoke dreadfully slowly and each wizard looked as bland and poor as Severahl himself.

"As you have an extensive experience with dangerous magical anomalies, I will leave the.. special cases to you. Your job will be to identify the anomaly, find its cause, what kind of magic was at work and direct it to the appropriate department within the Ministry."

"Well, I believe that's it," Severahl said, clasping his hands to his sides and sitting down.

"Understood, seems not too complicated," Brindelwood answered.

He turned to his desk and grabbed a handful of parchment and placed it on his desk. He began to go through them.

"Thomas Flat, Age 34, sported boils induced by a Pimple Jinx. Found at approximately 4:55 p.m. at the crossing of.."

Brindelwood placed the parchment to one side and went on.

"Welma Filsmith, Age 18, was found immobile at her home by grandmother. Cause seems to be the Full Body-Bind Curse. Detected at approximately 3:25 p.m. Suspect was.."

Sorting this one to the side as well, Brindelwood picked up another.

"Torson Wellbottom, Age 28, was found dead outside All-Well Supermarket at approximately 1:34 a.m. Nearly absolute that cause of death was Killing Curse. Suspect believed to be.."

Once more, Brindelwood sorted the parchment to the side and picked up a new one.

"Ned Salister, Age 78, was found disintegrated into a pile of ash in his home. Cause of death believed to be a severely augmented manifestation of the Fire-Making Charm. Traces of Legilimency were found after examining the remains. Suspect unknown."

A photo of a smiling, old man looked up at Brindelwood. The smile was unusually warm and filled Brindelwood with a strange sense of sadness. Who could have possibly killed such a sweet man? _Grindelwald. _It struck him like lightning strikes the Earth, without warning. This morning's paper flashed into Brindelwood's mind. Switzerland's Minister of Magic was murdered in the same way. He was burnt to ashes, with only his hand remaining. The paper had claimed it was Fiendfyre, which seemed more plausible than a Fire-Making Charm. But neither could disintegrate someone. It can at most, if used by an extremely skilled wizard, leave a burnt corpse behind, but to disintegrate to ash? How powerful could Grindelwald be? But Brindelwood cast the thought aside for a moment. There was no definite proof that this could have been him.

But it was obvious the wizard who committed the murder wanted something if he or she had to resort to Legilimency. What could a simple, old Muggle man possess that could warrant such a gruesome murder?

He scanned the document further until he reached the bottom.

"Remains stored in the Department of Mysteries. Please see Morthus in the Magical Remains room. Restricted Access to top Ministry officials."

"I think I may have found one of those special cases you mentioned Severahl," Brindelwood said, getting up. This merely elicited a grunt of acknowledgment from the old withered wizard whose nose was inches away from touching the parchment he was studying.

Stepping outside of the door, Brindelwood made way to the elevators. Where he picked up the Daily Prophet once more. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but it was their, lingering in his depths, clouding his mind at times of deep thought. He knew it was wrong, knew it was evil, but he couldn't help but admire Gellert Grindelwald. Such power and knowledge he possessed, such charisma. He had seen him once, long ago, before he began to work at the Ministry.

Grindelwald stood and spoke in his village, promising glory and peace to the wizarding world. His golden hair flowing in the wind, his dark tall frame proudly standing at the podium he had conjured out of thin air. Brindelwood had watched in awe, as almost everyone around him did, as Grindelwald called for justice against the evils the Muggles had inflicted on the wizarding world. As he called to an end to the atrocities that Muggles were wrecking in their own world. How glorious it all was. The man was brilliant, and now they labeled him as some lowly murderer. But perhaps he was.. Perhaps he was just a murderer who only cared about himself and just wanted to seize power for himself.

But Brindelwood only thought that out of righteousness, out of conscience. While his logic and his brain told him that Grindelwald was against all good in the world, his heart whispered otherwise. His allegiance was to Grindelwald, it was so the moment he heard him speak. But regardless of what raged within his heart, Brindelwood kept his feelings to himself and never shared them.

The article he was reading concluded that Grindelwald's next possible destination might be the French Ministry of Magic. Pierre de la Sange, the French Minister of Magic, was said to be preparing the Ministry for war, summoning all their Aurors to its aid.

_"Department of Mysteries" _ a gentle female voice said, as the elevators opened. Brindelwood stepped out and made an immediate right. Not many people went to the Magical Remains room. It was the equivalent to the Muggles' morgue. Despite his hatred for their culture, he was knowledgeable about many of their ideas and behavior, reading about and studying them in his free time.

Brindelwood pulled out his wand and tapped the door three times, then whispered "The Wooly Bandit." The door slowly opened.

Brindelwood stepped into a very dim room lit only by a _Lumos _charm suspended high above the floor. In the middle of the room, at a black desk, sat a small Goblin, writing something on a long sheet of parchment.

"A good evening to you too, Morthus," said Brindelwood cheerfully approaching the Goblin's desk.

"Is it evening? Eh.. It's hard to keep track of time in this.. ghastly place," Morthus answered in a raspy low voice.

"I never understood why you chose to work here of all places," Brindelwood said.

"It's quiet," the Goblin answered curtly. "And there aren't any (he looked up at Brindelwood with bloodthirsty, black eyes) nuisances that might irk my patience."

"A jolly observation, my dear Morthus," Brindelwood replied, laughing.

"So what brings you to the underworld?" Morthus asked, leaning back and staring into Brindelwood's eyes.

"I don't know if you've heard but I've been-"

"Transferred to the Muggle Department? Yes I've heard. News travel quickly, even down here."

"Well, I'm in charge of going through recorded murders of Muggles via magical means and I came across a very interesting case."

Brindelwood placed the parchment with Ned Salister's smiling face on Morthus's desk. The goblin leaned in closer, scowling, and read the report.

"Hmm.. very, very, very interesting," he said.

"How so?"

"Burnt to a crisp, eh? Only ashes were found.."

"Yes, similar to Switzerland's Minister of Magic. You've heard about that I'm sure," Brindelwood said.

"Oh yes.. yes," Morthus croaked. "I'm quite well aware of all these strange murders going on recently. The Ministry really doesn't want to admit as to what's causing these.. mysterious murders. Look, they said the cause was a "manifestation of the Fire-Making Charm!" Morthus barely managed to finish the sentence before breaking out in satiric laughter.

"Do you know what caused it then?" Brindelwood asked.

"Why of course I do," Morthus spat. "It doesn't take a genius to realize that Gellert Grindelwald is responsible for it. The magic he used to murder this muggle and the Swiss Minister is very gruesome, and extremely difficult to attempt. You noticed that traces of Legilimency were found, yes?"

Brindelwood nodded.

"Somehow, either by sheer talent or some knowledge unbeknownst to us, he managed to combine the effects of Legilimency with Fiendfyre. Once he entered the poor sap's mind, the fire from began to form inside him, feeding off the power of Grindelwald's skilled Legilimency. The pain, combined with the force of the Legilimens must have been double persuasive in uncovering whatever it was the infiltrator sought." Morthus leaned back. "I imagine.. it must have been quite a gruesome death."

There was some satisfaction in Morthus's voice that made Brindelwood somewhat uncomfortable.

"And you're positive this is the cause?"

"Yes, I'm positive," Morthus spat again. "I've worked inside this festering hole for decades. Surely you can put some faith in me in determining the cause of death in these stinky muggles."

"But what was he looking for? I assume he used the same magic on the Minister. But a muggle? Why use such advanced magic on a muggle?"

"Who knows?" Morthus answered. "Maybe there was something special about this muggle. Maybe there was something he knew that Grindelwald desperately needed. Maybe he just despised being around a muggle and decided to dispose of him.. properly."

"You ought to see the light more often Morthus, I fear this atmosphere makes you more angry than you ought to be," Brindelwood said.

"Pay more attention to yourself," Morthus shot back. "I think I'm doing quite fine."

"I want to see all the evidence left over from this particular report."

"Oh really? Are you a top Ministry official? You read it yourself, access is restricted."

"Morthus.. don't start," Brindelwood began.

"Start what?!" Morthus fired up. "How long am I going to owe you these filthy favors?"

"It wasn't my fault you got yourself in that situation.." Brindelwood responded with a smile.

"Bahh!" Morthus spat on the floor and got up. "Follow me."

They walked past countless rows of what looked like stone tombs. They were dark blue in color and looked to be made of marble. Each had countless rows of writing on them. They walked a bit further before stopping at one. Morthus leaned over, grunting and panting, and snapped his fingers. The stone tomb began to rise, higher and higher until its top became out of reach, and ultimately invisible to the eye. It continued to rise even further, until finally Morthus snapped his gnarly fingers and the tomb came to a halt.

In front of them was a compartment. Above it was written "Ned Salister, Muggle, Age 78."

"Here is all the evidence we were allowed to gather," Morthus said. "His.. remains obviously had to be left behind. You have twenty minutes. I have some appointments with real Ministry officials and I don't want them seeing your ragged robes fluttering about where they aren't supposed to."

And with that, he returned to his desk.


End file.
